Today is our due date from our first miscarriage. In another time and dimension I should be holding my baby today. I sat dealing with the aftermath this morning from our second miscarriage and realized that today I should be dealing with the aftermath of having a baby. I should be holding a sweet child and resting from labor. But I’m not, we lost this baby months ago. And then last week learned we lost another pregnancy. I know I do not go through this trial alone. And I know there are others out there struggling. I share this so other know they are not alone and later some suggestions of ways to speak with and console someone who has miscarried.
















We went in last Tuesday for our 10 week doctors appointment hoping to see a healthy little tadpole. After our miscarriage earlier this year I was so eager to see a happy little speck of life on the screen. But with four children we know what a healthy ultrasound looks like and as my husband and
I stared at the screen there was nothing. There was a big space but no baby. We then went into a separate radiology department later that day to confirm that I had was experiencing a blighted ovum or that my body continued creating tissue for a failed pregnancy. There was my insides with a gaping huge black space again on a big screen.

We went home and I wept. I spent most of the day sleeping because frankly I did not want to be awake. And when I woke up I kept hoping my reality was a bad dream, that the ultrasound had not occurred. I kept hoping I was still expecting a baby. This wasn’t supposed to happen twice. But the reality is that there was no baby. Even though I had felt pregnant and had all the symptoms to go with it. There was no baby.

Since my body had not naturally miscarried I chose this time to take a pill which induced the miscarriage. A few days later and I am still dealing with the affects of this medication so it is hard to say if this was easier than another D&C I experienced earlier this year. I am still healing and working through each day with hope.


Thankfully since we have told our close friends and family my phone has been flooded with messages of prayers and support. To have family and friends who care so deeply has made me feel loved and blessed beyond words. One message though, while meant in love, made me feel awkward and saddened by the advice shared. This brought me to the realization of how difficult it can be to talk to someone going through a miscarriage. 
This also made me think a hard question, “Have I ever looked at someone and judged them for how they are coping in their trials? Have I ever judged someone if they lost faith? Have I ever thought I knew the answer for others suffering?”
And I then asked myself a harder question, “Have I ever judged myself for my trials?” Have I ever thought, “If only I was so righteous, perhaps I would not have this trial.” While self reflecting and improvement is healthy I had to stop and realize that trials, pains, suffering, and bad news come to ALL people including the righteous. The amount of trials and suffering I face are not a reflection of my righteousness. If this was so Joseph Smith would not have cried out “O God, where art thou?”  If so then even our Savior would not have suffered all that He did.

A talk on grief stated, “I have worked with many good people who wondered if they had lost faith because they felt profound sorrow at the passing of a loved one. They mistakenly thought that a person with a strong testimony should not feel deeply saddened at a loved one’s passing—as if mourning the loved one’s death were synonymous with a disbelief in the afterlife or the Savior’s promises.” 1

The truth is there is only one person who can understand our greif– how our individual minds and body reacts to sadness, despair, and trauma. Even those who have gone through the same exact experience cannot fully comprehend anothers pain or process of sadness. We are individual beings and our reactions and personalities differ like the snowflakes of winter.

This being said, I cannot deny the healing power of my Savior that applies equally to all of us, regardless of personality or faithfulness. I have felt love from Christ throughout my entire life. I cannot deny this. But though I feel my Savior’s love, this physical body and mind of mine feels the effects of loss. And as painful as it has been, I have been accepting these natural emotions and letting them flow. This is okay. Grief is okay, in fact it’s actually normal and often takes time.


I know talking to someone who has experienced loss is difficult. I’ve had very close family struggle with appropriate words. It’s awkward and sad and sometimes it’s hard to know what to say. So if you are wondering how to talk to someone after miscarriage, I’ve rounded up a few sites. The first is spot on and really goes over some great suggestions. The second is a bit shorter if you’re just looking for some quick tips. The last is a great gospel talk on ways to mourn with those who mourn.
“And now it came to pass that the burdens which were laid upon Alma and his brethren were made light; yea, the Lord did strengthen them that they could bear up their burdens with ease, and they did submit cheerfully and with patience to all the will of the Lord.” –Mosiah 24:15

I know that the word “patience” is placed in this scripture for a reason. We need patience, our trials take time. I know though that eventually the Lord can make my burden light. Greif takes time.Now, as I am in my own Gethsemane, I see how important than ever it is to not judge those in trials, especially ourselves. I have learned that grieving does not equal more or less belief. I’m reminded of the reality of our imperfect world and that sadness, pain, stress, anxiety, and fear are part of His plan.

I am grateful that in the last few days, while grieving I have felt the gift of hope. I know things will work out. I know this and hope that if any of you are struggling with grief or how to speak with a grieving loved one, this post might be of some help. Love to you all.